


A Little Tied Up

by albawrites



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Kidnapping, M/M, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 13:17:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15195581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/albawrites/pseuds/albawrites
Summary: A ridiculous scheme goes wrong, which ends up with Twisted Fate and Graves getting a little tied up. They escape, but shenanigans happen. As you do.





	A Little Tied Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [princeofbondage](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=princeofbondage).



> An overdue commission fic! Enjoy.

"You just couldn't leave well enough alone, could you?" Graves grumbles.

Twisted Fate chuckles in return. "Sorry, hotshot. I'm not about to look the other way from _emerald encrested boots_."

"Right. You couldn't resist robbing from _Cassiopeia Du Couteau_ because you just needed another pair of fancy-ass lady boots."

"They're the right fit! And in my defense, it ain't like she's gonna need 'em anytime soon."

Twisted Fate can hear the door rattle from wherever they're imprisoned, something sliding open before he can hear their captor snap at them: "Stop talking, both of you. Or I _will_ gag the two of you. You're lucky I didn't just cut off your hands."

The door is shut again, and Fate mutters to himself, "Gags, huh? You think he realizes he's kinky-- _ow._ " He frowns to himself when he feels Graves pinch his wrist. Not that his partner can see it, but he sticks out his lower lip, pouting overdramatically.

It all seemed a simple enough plan. Going to Demacia for old tricks is not something Twisted Fate is fond of considering the overall feeling on magic. Though he has nothing but confidence in his skills as a thief and con artist, he didn't like the idea of losing his magic for any period of time. So, he'd taken to convincing Graves to go with him to Noxus instead for work for the time being until Piltover stopped being pissed off at them just long enough that they could get back in. Leave it to the sheriff to hold a grudge and making sure the rest of her force knows it.

Then it happened. While invading one of the homes of the nobles, Twisted Fate had his eye on the vast collection of footwear that once belonged to the mysterious Cassiopeia, and thought to treat himself. What he couldn't have quite counted on was them sending a _highly trained assassin_ to simply capture them and return them to Noxus to face whatever imbalanced sense of justice the Du Couteau family probably has.

Which leaves both Graves and Twisted Fate as they are right now: tied back to back once again, only they're both blindfolded as well. On top of that, Twisted Fate has found himself bound up more than Graves, rope wrapped tight around his thigh and calf, forcing him to bend at the knees; he's also tied at the ankles, wrists, and bonds forcing his shoulders back uncomfortably. Given enough time, he might be able to figure a way to worm his way out of the ropes, but unfortunate they're on a significantly _lack_ of time since their prison caddy is being dragged away to who the hell knows where.

"This is another fine mess you've gotten us into," Graves mutters under his breath.

Fate laughs quietly to himself. "Me? You're the troublemaker with that rotten temper of yours."

"We're _both_ troublemakers."

"Yeah, but everyone likes me better." Fate shifts slightly, wincing at the tight rope. That assassin really didn't mess around.

Graves snorts. "Not when they figure out what a lying asshole you are."

"Don't be like that. _You_ like me."

"Only gods know why."

"My charm an' good looks?" Twisted Fate offers.

"Nah, you don't got those," Graves replies, his tone wry and clearly just playing along with the banter.

Twisted Fate turns his head, leaning his back against Graves's, knowing the other man can manage his weight fine. Under his breath, he murmurs, "Get closer."

The assassin was thorough with Twisted Fate, making sure that all cards on his person had been removed and having checked most of the places he'd kept them hidden. Most, but not all, and right now the easiest one to get is the one he'd planted on Graves sometime ago. When he feels the other man's warm back press closer to his, Fate shifts himself just enough that his skinny fingers can reach down toward Graves' back pocket. Card safely pinched between his fingers, Twisted Fate enchants it just enough that he can cut the rope keeping Graves' wrists bound together.

He can feel Graves move slowly, careful to not make as much noise as possible. While he feels Graves pull away cautiously, Fate can't see where he's going; he himself is still blindfolded, and all he can do is guess where Graves is standing. Fortunately, they've been in worse situations than this one, and they can turn it around shortly. Twisted Fate turns the card in his fingers, shifting the enchantment from blue onto a burning red.

"T.F.," is all Graves has to say, and Twisted Fate just nods silently to him.

"It's ready, hotshot. Aim true. I'm countin' on you."

Not another word is spoken between the two of them, and there is no need to. Though Twisted Fate can't see, he feels the heat of the red card in Graves' grasp, the magical flames flickering. After a moment of silent, Twisted Fate grits his teeth, feeling the caddy shake as the back door is blown off with the explosive card. With a strained growl, Graves is hauling Fate over his shoulder. He _still_ can't see shit, but he feels Graves leap from the caddy, grunting as he lands. In the distance, he hears the beasts that'd been pulling them along complain noisily, the Noxians cursing. Somehow, Graves must have gotten back Destiny, because he can smell the smoke bomb go off to cover their tracks.

"Y'know," Twisted Fate mutters as Graves keeps carrying him. "You could untie me at any second now."

"Yeah, seconds we don't _got._ Just shut up and let me take care of this, princess."

Despite the blindfold still on, Twisted Fate most definitely rolls his eyes anyway. "Wow, bossy."

There's a distinct _SMACK_ that rings in Twisted Fate's ears, and a stinging sensation on his rear. It takes a second, then he's trying not to laugh. "Did you just slap my ass?" he chokes out, genuinely trying to stifle his amusement.

"I'll do it again if you don't behave yourself."

"Look at you, Malcolm Funnyman Graves."

"That's me." There's a pause in their movement, as if Graves is determining where to go next. "I'm a damned comedian."

The next few minutes are quiet other than Graves' breathing as he's cautiously taking them through wherever the hell they are. It smells like the woods and moss covering wherever it can crawl; he can hear the other man occasionally stepping on fallen leaves and branches, further stalping where they might be. The air is a bit damp, like it might end up threatening to rain all over them at any second.

There's the sudden sound of wooden boards creaking under Graves' feet, like they've stepped into an actual building, but there's still a breeze coming through. Twisted Fate's best guess is that they're in a rundown shack or something, which isn't terribly pleasing but it's better than no shelter at all.

"Hope you can live with the fact that it's no 5-star hotel," Graves mutters, sitting Fate down against a wall. Or a crate? Honestly, he can't tell.

"Well, I reckon I can live with it if it means we've escaped the grasp of some very upset Noxians," Twisted Fate says, grinning lop-sidedly. "You gonna untie me now?"

There's a moment of silence. 

Twisted Fate clears his throat. "Malcolm?"

"I'm thinkin'," Graves mutters, his voice sounding closer.

"Yeah, don't do that too hard. You'll hurt somethin'," Fate teases.

"Wiseass." There's no annoyance or anger in Graves' voice despite how he huffs and grumbles. "He really tied you up good, huh."

It takes a few seconds to process, but _oh._ Of course. Considering how Twisted Fate's been arranged, he had much more detailed knotting and tying done to his person than Graves did, which is why they'd been able to escape as well as they did. But, from the sounds of it, Graves is really appreciating the work.

Twisted Fate smirks. "You like that, huh?"

"Yeah, too bad he didn't gag your pretty mouth, too," Graves says flatly. 

Slowly, he begins to feel Graves' thick fingers roam over the intricate rope job, how it forces both Fate's arms and legs back, keeping him spread wide open. It's looped distinctly about his thighs, close to his crotch and pushing up against his pelvis. Twisted Fate hums, not refusing the attention. Shitty situation or no, he's never going to complain about Graves getting grabby with him. Besides, they have time to kill until morning where they can make a clean getaway. There's no rush in this. Why not have a bit of fun?

"'Course," Graves mutters against his ear, beard tickling the outer rim of it. "Reckon I could find another way to shut you up."

"Oh no, how terrible," Twisted Fate says, chuckling.

Graves' hands are on his thighs, nudging and tracing over the tight rope. It already burns something fierce, but there's a different fire eating away at him now that Graves is gretting _fresh_ with him. Whatever clever thing Twisted Fate wants to say next is stolen as soon as his partner kisses him roughly, their teeth clicking. It isn't terribly romantic, but hell they have enough days for that kind of thing too. Right now, he's fine with something base and getting off on the fact that Graves likes seeing him roughed up like this, tied up with no place to do.

He should've figured this was a turn on for Malcolm, anyway.

"Shit," Fate mutters against the other man's mouth, jerking with very little leverage to truly move effectively, but hell he wants to when Graves is palming him between the thighs. Not that he wasn't already getting hard, but this definitely helps. Graves is shoving his mouth at his again, swallowing down Fate's groan as he tries to buck into his hand fondling him but damn he is getting _no where._ There is so little that he can do.

Suddenly, Graves is pulling away, and Fate can hear his zipper being undone along with a belt buckle. He can predict what'll go next; it isn't like Graves is the most subtle man in the world, after all. Fingers wind in Fate's hair, pulling just a bit, just enough to make a delighted thrill run through Twisted Fate's spine. Another tug on his scalp and Fate is opening his mouth, no communication needed. Undoubtedly Graves takes it as a sign, the tip of his cock rubbing just so on Fate's bottom lip before he presses the head in. Slowly, Fate slides the flat of his tongue against it before letting Graves guide his head down further and further. 

This part is nothing new, honestly. Swallowing down Graves' cock is almost _routine_ by now, so well practiced, but he never gets sick of hearing Graves struggle to not groan. If he didn't have the length a little more than halfway down by now, Fate would probably be grinning ear to ear, and hell he's close to that. Enough of a smug look that he supposes Graves takes notice, because there's sudden pressure down against Twisted Fate's covered cock. It almost causes the riverman to choke on Graves' dick for once, his body jerking. What the hell--?

"Don't look so smug," Graves grumbles at him. Twisted Fate would almost take him seriously if he didn't sound so strained, if it wasn't so obvious how hard he's trying to keep steady. Hell, he wants to say something, a handful of remarks in Fate's head, but he can't get a word in as Graves is starting to properly fuck his mouth. The pressure is on his own cock, a rolling sensation.

Ah. Graves is shoving his boot against him. Asshole. Fate can't say he isn't into it, though.

So, he sucks a little harder, and tries to shove his hips against Malcolm's foot, grinding almost painfully into the heel of his boot. As he groans, he hears Graves hiss between clenched teeth, gripping and pulling Fate's hair more and _hell_ , he loves it. He loves it more than he could even say, even if his mouth was free.

Suddenly, Graves is pulling out, leaving a trail of spit down Fate's chin. He coughs and clears his throat, then grins as sharply as he can manage. "C'mon, you ain't even done yet," Twisted Fate remarks, his voice so much rougher than he anticipated.

Malcolm pushes down _harder_ against his dick and Fate bites his lower lip. "What's your hurry?" Graves says with a snort.

For once, Twisted Fate finds himself at a lack of words. All he can do is hunch his shoulders best as he can and push against the pressure, chasing it, shuddering as he does. It causes a low, rumbling chuckle in Graves and... _yeah_ , Fate likes the sound of that, too. He lets his head tip back, _thunk_ ing against the wall as he sighs, Graves finally tugging open his trousers and letting his cock free.

"Huh." Graves seems to hesitate.

"Yeah?" Under the blindfold, Fate raises a brow. "What's the problem, hotshot?"

"Nothin'. Hold still."

It happens in a matter of seconds, certainly before Twisted Fate can really even figure out what the hell he's doing, but he feels a distinct tug on his trousers in a way that feels like Graves is... _poking him?_ He isn't sure how else to describe it, at least not until suddenly he feels and hears the cloth of his pants tearing and opening. Then, Fate frowns indignantly. 

"Did you just _cut my trousers open_."

Graves snorts. "Maybe a little."

"Maybe a lot," Fate grumbles. "You got this awful habit of ruining my fine clothes, Malcolm."

"They're already ruined when you're puttin' that expensive shit on," Graves teases, pressing in close enough that Fate can feel body heat coming off of him.

Twisted Fate sighs dramatically, and his annoyance quickly fades. "You're so damned rude. Why do I put up with you?"

"Cuz I'm the only one that puts up with _you._ " Yet, Fate can distinctly hear the smile in Graves' voice, and he's grinning back anyway.

He isn't going to ask how, but Fate distinctly feels a slickened finger pushes into his hole. It isn't uncomfortable, and Twisted Fate is well used to it by now, so he just relaxes as best as he can with the rope forcing him into position. As Graves slowly starts to fuck him with the finger he starts to bite along Fate's throat, sucks at his pulse hard enough to bruise. Bastard is having the time of his life, ruffling up Twisted Fate out of his usual slick appearance, but he has no concern about stopping Graves. If he wanted him to, he'd have said as much.

"Good enough?" Graves mutters into his ear.

"Been ready," Fate breathes out, laughing airily. "C'mon, Malcolm. I'm all yours."

It's just perfect, isn't it? He's all tied up, like a neat little package for Graves to enjoy and frankly Twisted Fate has zero problem with it. Sure, he's a bit irritated that his pants are ruined and he's going to be walking around with a damned hole in them until they get to a town, but they've done stupider shit before. With Graves' hands on his thighs, he feels the probe of the head of his cock press against his twitching rim a moment before he's starting to press in. 

Twisted Fate lets out a choked gasp. It's nothing new for them, but he never gets sick of the burning heat of when Graves starts to put his cock in, how the burlier man is biting down onto his neck as if to brace himself. It'll bruise too, but right now he doesn't give a damn, not if they both get what they need.

"How the hell are you still so tight after all this time?" Graves whispers, his voice downright _giddy_.

"Magic trick," Fate strains out. "Shit, _Malcolm_ \--"

"I got you," is rumbled out warmly from the other man.

There's absolutely nothing that Twisted Fate can do except feel how Graves fucks him, rutting into him and up against a wall. The ropes press harder into him, rubbing and chafing through his clothes, and hell it hurts, it bites at him, but he enjoys a bit of that too. He twitches, moaning, just taking it all as Graves holds onto him and bucks harder and _harder._ Rough, callused fingers are stroking Fate's cock now and he grits his teeth because that's _so much_ but he can't resist. Shit shit _shit_ \--

He leans his head back and shudders, trembling in Graves' arms as he comes, squeezing tight over the other man. "Don't stop," Fate practically slurs his words, almsot feeling drunk on how damned good he feels. Malcolm keeps going, rolling into him even as Fate is spasming, _tightening_ , and finally Graves finishes with a choked groan, burying his face into Fate's neck. 

It's quiet a moment except for their breathing. Graves slips out, making Fate wince a little and grumble to himself; a fine mess they've made of themselves _indeed._

"You owe me a bath _and_ clothing," Fate complains, shaking his hair out as Graves finally removes the blindfold. "Hope you're proud of yourself."

This time, he can see Malcolm's stupid toothy grin as he says, "Pretty damned proud, yeah."


End file.
